It’s Father’s day! There are just a few of these commercialised days that I can go with and I think Father’s day is probably one of them.
So, here’s the thing. I’m not going to say, how my father is my hero and how he’s done so much for me and I couldn’t have been here without him because that is a given. That is probably the description of every father in the world. That’s what they do and no amount of words can do justice to that.
My father had a strange way of teaching me things. He did try the theory part of explaining it first but surely I wasn’t such a theory person. So he’d do the next best thing which was to throw me in the pit of the problem and try to figure it out myself. At that time, I never understood this way of his. I’d find it rather harsh and heartless at that point. “How could a father do that to his own child?”- a question I would repeatedly ask myself.
If I solved the problem, there’d never be any sort of appreciation for figuring it out on my own, but if I failed to do so, then I’d be told off and never hear the end of it. I hated this about him. I didn’t get why he couldn’t just mollycoddle me or come to my rescue at the time of need. When the teens arrived and if I fell ill, he would make me go to the clinic on my own while he sat in the waiting room. I’d have to figure out which doctor to see by asking at the reception, meet the doctor, identify my symptoms and understand my prescription all by myself. I’d even had to figure out how much to pay at the end of it all. He’d then ask me the details on the way home, including the doctor’s name which, on one occasion, I forgot to and got told off yet again. It’s not that I didn’t try to argue. I was quite the rebel. “If your argument can’t make any sense, the sensible thing to do is to shut up. If your argument makes sense in your head, then do it in a way to shut me up, don’t just ramble and talk nonsense.” I was told.
It was too much pressure on me, I thought, and that’s how life went on till I got to my first job at the age of 18. It was challenging and there were too many people to suddenly report to. I worked crazy hours. It was the new world of corporate and politics that was overwhelming. But it didn’t take me very long to realise the similarities. At work (the real world), no one really appreciates you when you do something right, but once you mess up, you are told off. If I couldn’t make sense with my argument, I chose to stay quiet, but if I did make sense, I’d make sure I’d shut my opponent up. I was the only one in my age group, who wasn’t afraid to talk to anybody and ask as many questions just incase I was quizzed by anyone.
My dad and I never had that conversation on why he was so hard on me on those occassions ,where he came out with a heart touching dialogue that brought tears and ended in embraces. No. That is just now for overly forwarded social messages on all kinds of social media. My father gave me life experience well before “life” actually began. And nothing beats that.
So today when I wished him a ‘Happy Father’s Day’, he thanked me and asked me if I had managed to finish his work at the government office. I proudly said, “Ofcourse”. He further asked, “Did you take the number down of the guy when you went to the office, just incase we need to call him.”
I, instantly, realised what was going to happen and before I could get told off, I argued, “Everything is online now dad, we can find out his number whenever we want.”
He calmly said, “But why didn’t you just ask him for his number right then? *Sighs* You still have to learn many things in the business.”
Happy Father’s Day to all the fathers who never stop teaching us!